Give Me Your Hopeless Heart
by EmiiRawrr
Summary: Frank's life is bleak, feeling like he'll live and die in Jersey. Gerard walks in and changes him forever.


Give Me Your Hopeless Heart

That stupid motherfucking alarm! God damn it!

I threw my body over the bed, grabbing my alarm clock and stabbing at the buttons. As silence descended, I took a few deep breaths before facing the cool morning air. My body ached from the various confrontations I'd had in the past week, so getting out of bed hurt like a damn bitch. It's lucky that I rarely bruise, or I'd be covered head-to-toe with purple blotches.

The coldness hit my bare torso as soon as I removed the covers; my body trembled slightly as I rushed into the bathroom. The sound of my feet padding across the floor was all there was to hear. No birds sang in New Jersey, my Dad was out somewhere, he'd been gone a week already, and it was no surprise to me at all. The regular sounds of family life didn't exist for me – I lived practically alone. My Mum had left when I was about ten years old, so I was accustomed to looking after myself.

Turning on the shower, I shed my pyjama pants (batman, of course) and underwear, stepping under the torrent of water. As the warmth spread over my body, I took deep breaths to relax. I loved being in the shower, it was so peaceful. I felt clean, tranquil, and free from worries about bullies.

Ten minutes later I was out, my muscles had unwound and I felt like facing the world was a little less impossible. After drying off, I wrapped a towel around my waist. Drying my hair in front of the mirror, I took note that the bags under my eyes were getting worse. Sleep didn't ever greet me before 4am, and my alarm waking me up much too soon to ever meant that I could never have a decent sleep. My bangs would always fall into my eyes, but that was fine by me. Dyed black, and long enough to reach my mouth, except for the sides of my hair which had been shaved and dyed dark red. My Dad had hated it, but he was rarely there to see it, so he soon stopped moaning.

After applying black eyeliner, I went to get dressed. Noticing the time, I knew I'd be late if I didn't hurry up. Throwing on the nearest clothes to me, I ran to grab my school bag. I rushed out of the door with an apple in my hand, about to face another day of hell.

Belleview, New Jersey. The place that outsiders pretend doesn't exist. If you live here, you'll probably die here. A dead end, an ugly disease. I was seventeen and already begging for escape, with no comfort but my guitar.

On my way to school, I had gotten much unwanted attention. Everyone in attendance of Belleview High school hated me, I hated them too. I was pushed, shoved, kicked and told that I wasn't good enough every fucking day. No one tried to talk to me; I was labelled the fag, the good-for-nothing punk with funny hair and a bad attitude.

I ignored my surroundings as much as I could. Listening to The Misfits, I walked with my head down and tried as hard as possible to hear nothing but the lyrics, feel only the music instead of harsh stares. Approaching the gates it got harder to escape reality. The large grey building loomed over me, uninviting and unforgiving. I couldn't wait for the day that I'd finally be out of there.

The beginning of my day passed by in a whirl; I had rushed and paid little attention to anything. That is, until first period Biology. Time slowed from then on, I started paying attention in that lesson.

That's when I saw him. He strutted into my classroom, long black hair falling perfectly around his ivory face. He was wearing large black sunglasses (designer, Ray-Ban at a guess) concealing his eyes. I lowered my gaze to find a crumpled Iron Maiden shirt beneath a worn leather jacket. Lower again, my eyes stopped: dangerously tight black jeans. I could feel a growing pressure against my own, and decided to look further. Black boots, plain except for a buckle at each side. There was no need for good shoes; his face had everyone's attention.

He moved in a fluid motion – every fibre of his being screamed confidence. I was starting to feel uncomfortable, my jeans bulging and my breath shaky. Who the hell was this kid?

As if he'd heard my thoughts, he stopped in front of Mr Harper's desk and announced, "I'm Gerard Way. I like parties, metal, and Beer. Where do I sit?" Our teacher's mouth hung agape, stunned. He simply pointed across the room. Me? What – oh, right; the space beside me is the only available one in our class. No one wanted to sit next to the 'creepy punk midget'. I mean what the fuck? I'm not the problem here; it's all of these plastic bitches with their elitist attitudes. Fuck this whole wide world! Speaking of fucking, Gerard was walking toward me. He dumped a notebook on my – our – desk, and pulled his chair close to mine. I could feel the heat radiating from him, my cheeks flaring. In an effort to conceal my excitement, I quickly sat forward.

"It's too late, sugar", he whispered. After finally removing the Ray-Ban glasses, he hung them from his t-shirt. Big hazel orbs looked at me through heavily lined lids. His eyes were surrounded by deep red-brown makeup, making the brown and green tones of his eyes more prominent. Mesmerised, mortified and mildly seduced, I leaned toward him instinctively.

"I… uh, sorry" Wow, Frank, way to play it cool! He winked at me and turned to 'listen' to our teacher. Biology class had never been so long. I couldn't concentrate, catching fragmented words like 'Phospholipid bilayer' and 'hydrophilic'. Gerard seemed to sense my discomfort, making the most of this situation. He turned toward me to smile sweetly, exposing small teeth. I smiled, and bit my lip. He was teasing me, for sure; those eyes glinted with intentions. His hand grazed my knee, sending shivers all across my body. The bulge in my jeans didn't go away. At one point, he leaned over to me, breathing into my ear, "I've got the answer". He lingered, leaving a soft kiss on my cheek. I gasped, turning to look at him just as he moved away. Our cheeks brushed, and in that slight contact I felt changed. I felt that I actually wanted learn about him. I didn't know this guy, but my whole body ached to. I needed to. Maybe things would be okay? He could be the only hope for me.

Not another word passed between us, we didn't look at one another after that, but I couldn't force my attention to leave him. As the bell rang I moved slowly, feeling drained but excited. "I'm… I'm Frank. Hey," I rushed the words out, forcing the air out of my lungs before I chickened out. "Mmmm, Frank". He looked at me, from my face to my feet. My name on his lips sounded… delicious. I wished I'd dressed better! If I had known it'd be necessary then I wouldn't be wearing my plain black t-shirt with my skinny jeans. They were ripped at the knees, and faded. My black, red and white Etnies matched my hair. They were scuffed from always getting into fights. Ha, fights! More like being attacked by a group of guys whilst I tried to fight for my life. I hated this place, but it suddenly felt worthwhile.

He looked back at my face, a smile playing on his lips. "So… this place is really fucking mediocre. You're the best thing to have happened to me all day. Please tell me you'll skip with me. Won't you, Frankie? I'd rather get to know you…"

"Fuck. Am I dreaming? Great idea. Let's go!" I grinned, and he smiled with me. Even the way he spoke made me internally moan; his accent was unique, and he had this way of speaking from one side of his mouth. Fuck, that pretty little mouth of his.

We were out in the hallway, laughing as we half-ran. "So where do you – unff!" I was cut short by a hand connecting with my chest, shoving me backwards. My ass hit the floor, and I felt my head connect with the cold surface – a loud thump confirming my pain.

"Fuck, you little fag. Where do you think you're going? Huh?" Oh shit. No, not now, please not now. Brad had a tendency to mess with me for fun. Why not? He's popular: 6"2, head of the football team and a hit with the ladies. If only they knew about the time I caught him staring at Connor's ass in the changing room! "Hey, you little creep. I'm talking to you!" He spat in my face, followed by a round of sneers from his friends. Gerard walked forward, frighteningly close to the Jock's face. He spoke slowly, his words riddled with revenge, "If you touch him again, I'll cut you up into a thousand pieces, all of you. You vile, evil men" He growled, spun on his heel and held out a hand to help me up. Touching the back of my head with light fingers, he still clutched my hand, he scanned me for injuries. "Frankie, are you okay love?" He looked like he wanted to cry, self-assured Gerard Way looked like the seventeen year old boy that he was. He was scared, for me. He cared? Wow. My head spun, "I feel kind of dizzy. Thanks, Gee. I just… lets go, okay? Please". He nodded, his eyes looking clouded. We pushed past Brad and his brainless friends, but not before Gerard kicked one guy - Ryan's feet out from under him. "Gee, why did you..?" I began to ask, when Gerard interrupted me, "I heard him tell another guy a lie about you, Frank. I don't like liars" He smiled at me – warmly this time, and I felt so safe. "What did he say?" I whispered, still in shock. "He told a kid that you were ugly. Can you fucking believe that? You!" He started to shout, and I looked at him quizzically. I must not have heard that right. I couldn't have – no. "C'mon. I know where we can go!" I laughed, pulling him by the hand as we burst out of the entrance and into the sunlight.

Even if those guys had been total assholes, this was turning out to be the best day ever.


End file.
